


Flower Boy

by omgmylarents



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (& niall literally never shuts up), Anal Sex, Dramatic Louis Tomlinson, Florist Harry, Gay Sex, Harry is a Tease, Help, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, Louis Tomlinson Has a Crush on Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson Loves Harry Styles, M/M, Nervous Louis, Niall Horan & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, Older Louis, Oral Sex, Pining Louis, Quiet Zayn Malik, Sex, Shower Sex, Younger Harry, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, and ziam exists, but basically, im so sorry, it was all pg until the sex tags, louis is a nervous wreck in front of harry, louis is obsessed with harry, my mum will kill me if she finds this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-04-22 22:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgmylarents/pseuds/omgmylarents
Summary: A Larry AU in which Louis has a minor obsession and perpetual crush over the boy that works in the florist and forces him to relentlessly deliver flowers. Harry gets curious, Niall never shuts up, Liam is a wisened old hag and Zayn is attached to Liam at the hip.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Flower Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys !!
> 
> This is (kind of) my first fic !!
> 
> I got the inspiration from a moot of mine on Twitter (shoutout to Ri @canyonlarry haha), she (quite aggressively) demanded that someone wrote an AU about Harry being a florist & Louis has a massive crush on him so Louis gets flowers delivered all the time just to see him & is always too nervous to ask for his numbers so yeah :)
> 
> Here is chapter one, I hope you like it !!
> 
> Love you all <33

Louis has been waiting at the bottom of the stairs for eleven minutes now. He’s absentmindedly staring off into space thinking about absolutely nothing until there is a soft knock at the door. Louis jumps up to his feet and, in five seconds of pure panicked chaos, he runs to the door, stopping to adjust his messy fringe in the mirror, and opens it.

His eyes meet with those familiar wide, bottle green ones that belong to the boy standing at the doorstep with a bouquet of pink chrysanthemums and Shasta daisies in his arms. He’s wearing black skinny jeans, Chelsea boots and a lavender sweater that makes Louis want to vaporise into molecules every time he wears it. It’s loose fitted and hangs low enough so Louis can see the ink that decorates the boy’s collarbones and his many necklaces. He must have been standing there with his jaw practically on the floor for longer than anticipated because the boy just clears his throat, still looking at Louis.

“Oh um, sorry, I just- um…” Louis starts, jolting to life.

“I have a delivery for Mr Tomlinson?” The lavender boy says, checking the name on the card.

“Ah yes, that would...um, that would be me,” Louis says. He winces in embarrassment, cursing himself for being such a stuttering prat in front of this gorgeous, Greek Godly looking boy.

Lavender boy hands Louis the flowers and they awkwardly look at each other for a second. Louis expects him to walk away as he’s already pre-paid, but the boy is looking questioningly at him.

“Can I ask you a question?” Lavender boys says, and Louis starts to panic. Why on earth would this heavenly being want to ask him a question?

“Of course.” Louis manages after a second of sheer anxiety.

“Why do you need so many flowers? I was just wondering. This is like, your fourth delivery this week.” He laughs. And Louis actually considers moving to Alaska and becoming an Inuit, catching mackerel to feed himself and living in the carcass of a walrus for warmth. He will provide for himself and will never have to come into contact with human civilisation again. It’s a pretty sturdy plan if you ask him.

“Oh well, um...you see, I-” Does Louis admit he has the biggest childish crush on this complete stranger or does he just move to Alaska? He thinks he would rather go with the latter but Louis is standing in front of this boy opening and closing his mouth with nothing coming out of it, making himself look like a nutter.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” Lavender boy laughs as he adjusts the khaki bandana adorned upon his chin-length chocolate curls.

“It would save me life-long embarrassment.” Louis deadpans and the boy just laughs. Louis certainly does not think anything about this situation is even remotely funny if anything, Louis is mortified beyond belief.

“You’ve been requesting me for all of your deliveries so maybe it would just be easier if I gave you my number, yeah? Then you can just call me if you need any more flowers and I can drop them off for you?” And Louis thinks he’s actually about to combust. This boy has just asked for his number. Oh. My. God. Louis cannot think straight. His heart feels like it is about to pack up and go into cardiac arrest and- OH MY GOD WHAT IF HE DIES RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE? Louis quickly shakes the thought off and fumbles his hand that’s not holding the flowers in his back pocket to fish out his phone and, with shaky fingers, unlocks it and goes to his contacts. He hands his phone to the boy in the Chelsea boots.

His fingers deftly tap away at the screen and hands Louis his phone back, a new contact called “Harry :)” added to the list. Louis gives a closed mouth smile as he looks at the name then looks back up to Harry. 

“Harry,” Louis voices, testing it out as if it’s not the third most popular boys name in the UK. “Well, um...I’ll text you or call you soon then...for flowers, of course.” He says, and Harry just waves at him and saunters off back down the road again to the florist.

Louis probably stood there for another two minutes with his mouth hung wide open and only blinking if his eyeballs were on the verge of shrivelling up to the lack of moisture before he closed the door. 

He can’t quite remember.

**

It was a few hours later and Louis was still sitting in his bed staring at Harry’s name in his contacts list. Does he call him? Text him? What would he say if he did either? Surely he can’t just keep ordering bouquet upon bouquet of flowers? 

He sneezes.

Fucking hayfever.

It’s extremely ironic, actually. The fact that Louis has suffered with hayfever for years but he will order an entire fucking flower shop just to see the cute boy that delivers them for a minute or two most days of the week. Call him illogical, but Louis thinks he is a fucking mastermind. Oh, what impossibly powerful synapses his painfully big brain must contain for him to come up with such a smart idea that is ordering flowers almost every day to see said cute boy from the flower. Yes, it is financially inconvenient but no pain, no gain, right?

Louis still can’t quite believe he’s got his number. He’s almost in a state of shock. Almost. Not quite, but almost.

And Louis is just looking at Harry’s number, scrolling and seeing his contact profile until SHIT. HE’S ACCIDENTALLY CALLING HIM.

Louis throws his phone in the general direction of the wall and screams. He throws his duvet over his head and shrieks like a bloody banshee.

“Louis is that you?” Louis hears from the floor by his bed.

Fuck.

Louis pops his head out from under the cover.

“Um, hi Harry” He shouts loud enough so he can hear him.

“Are you okay?” Harry asks, and that’s when Louis thinks he might actually want to consider moving to Alaska right about now because he’s ruined his chances with the most gorgeous person in this universe. He goes to pick his phone up off the carpeted floor and holds it to his ear.

He clears his throat.

“Hi, Harry. Yes, I’m alright, thank you. How are you?” Louis knows he cannot redeem himself now. Redemption is not even an idea in Louis’ mind any. He knows Harry thinks he’s a complete and utter prat now.

“I’m alright, thanks. Do you need more flowers delivered?” And Louis thinks he can even hear a smirk through the phone. The twat.

“No, sorry,” Louis sing songs, “I must have called you by accident. Sorry to bother you, Harry. Good night.” And he hangs up before Harry can say anything and before he can embarrass himself even more.

God almighty. Louis has never thought he could make more of a fool of himself in front of (or over the phone with) someone in his entire 21 years of life. He needs to get a grip, fucking hell.

**

“Niall, I swear to God, he is going to be deterred by me! I can’t even hold a conversation with the man because I just make a clown of myself! Do you hear me? A CLOWN. It’s not funny, shut up! Stop laughing!” Louis screeches at Niall. He’s lived with this boy long enough to know that Louis is not a force to be reckoned with when he is feeling plagued by the sorrows of being socially inept. The wanker.

Niall is currently doubled over the kitchen counter howling with laughter as Louis shrieks at him from the kitchen table, hands wrapped around his coffee mug so tightly it might smash.

“You’re telling me, that you accidentally phoned this poor man,” He takes a sharp intake of breath through his laughter, “And he picked up while you were screaming under your bed covers” His shoulders start to heave and jerk repeatedly now, “And he heard you doing so?” And Niall is so bemused he starts to scream with laughter as it echoes through the kitchen.

And Louis thinks he might get convicted with premeditated murder and a count of homicide if Niall continues to laugh.

“I DO NOT SEE WHAT IS SO FUNNY ABOUT THIS SITUATION YOU IRISH TWIT,” Louis says, eyeing the meat cleaver in the knife block. Looks like it could do the job.

Niall starts to choke on his own saliva at some point while Louis is in deep thought about whether it would be more painful for Niall if he were to decapitate him with the meat cleaver or just tell him his new glasses look shit. He thinks the latter.

“You SWINE. IT IS RUDE TO LAUGH AT OTHER PEOPLE’S MISFORTUNES.” Louis wails. If Niall ends up choking to death, he will leave him and not even try to call an ambulance. He will leave Niall to suffer and pay for his wrong-doings. He knows Louis is deeply sensitive to the situation at hand.

“YOUR GLASSES LOOK SHIT BY THE WAY.” He screams as he stomps up the stairs to his room and he can still hear Niall laughing like a fucking hyena after he slams his door shut.

Why is everyone so insensitive? He officially decides he hates humanity and no one will ever understand him. If he were in Alaska, none of this would be happening, of course. He could just dig a hole in the ice and fish and not have to speak to anyone.

He sits on his bed and opens up his laptop. He starts looking up how to survive in sub-freezing temperatures and how to catch fish on a line.

He will not tolerate an Irish tosser being inconsiderate about Louis’ incapability of flirting.


End file.
